Tumbleweed drifts across the road. It’s dinner time and everywhere is shut. There is no-one to be seen – they are all sheltered indoors from the buffeting wind. But Hokitika is one of the more inspirational places I’ve taken my camera. It’s a small gem town on the West Coast that you could easily quickly drive through. But you’d be making a mistake. The town runs parallel to one of the most intriguing beaches I’ve ever been too. Now, granted, that’s not an adjective often used with beaches. The sea wasn’t crystal clear. The sky wasn’t blue. And the weather meant that I kept my clothes on. I’d love to see it on a summer’s day too, when the town is buzzing, but it just goes to show you don’t always need the sun to create a dramatic holiday destination. It’s a photographer’s paradise. With a bubbling purple sky as a backdrop, I spent hours clicking away at the shapes created by the gnarled and twisted driftwood tossed up on the sparkly black sand, until the clouds finally broke in two and I got drenched, shielding my camera up my sweater. In fact the whole area is a walker’s paradise. With a four year old and a six year old we managed three very different short ambles. Take my advice. Stop here for a night or two. Walk 1: Hokitika beach. Walk for as far as you care. There are flat stones to skim in the Tasman Sea, and dens to make with the driftwood. Don’t expect to walk very fast. Walk 2: Hokitika Gorge Walk. Drive 25km east of Hokitika past Kowhitirangi, where you’ll pass a memorial to the seven men who were shot when farmer Stanley Graham went on a rampage in 1941. The 1981 film “Bad Blood” was based on the tragedy. A little further on is a super granite gorge filled with milky blue water. The walk takes you over a swingbridge. Walk 3: Tree top walk. Drive 15mins south of Hokitika to the West Coast Tree Top walk, where you can view the world from the Kamahi tree canopy at a height of 20m. If that’s not high enough climb another 20m to the top of the Hokitika Tower. www.treetopsnz.com Where to stay: Shining Star Beachfront Accommodation. The chalets back straight on to the beach and are opposite a glow worm dell. www.shiningstar.co.nz

A couple of hours north of Wanaka are the little towns of Fox and Franz Josef, named after the glaciers that sit in the mountain valleys. The West Coast is still sparsely populated so don’t expect a metropolis. A gold rush boom in the 1860s brought prospectors to the area, and it has progressively developed, rather than rushed through the last 150 years. These gold diggers were the real pioneers, foraging in the forests for food, camping where they could and creating cattle tracks to help make the region more accessible. The main artery, Highway 6, was only surfaced sixty years ago. Although it brings welcome access from Wanaka to Hokitika it is frequently closed due to landslides and mud slips, isolating the villages once more. We drove though just days after a mudslide had closed the road, sweeping a campervan and its occupants with it. It’s a reminder that the countryside doesn’t like to be tamed. We drove along the lush, windy road, vaguely aware that there were greater forces above us, but it wasn’t until the rain stopped and the clouds split that we had our first glace of the snow-capped mountains. Taking advantage of this gap in the weather, we joined a helicopter tour to the top of the mountain. Both thrilling and exhilarating, it was the best way to see the glacier and experience the raw mountain. Offering access that isn’t possible approaching by foot, our pilot settled on top of the soft snow long enough for us to throw a snowball and create an ice angel. It felt as if we have visited the moon. Ten minutes previously we were wandering through green bush. Now we were in the clouds surrounded by a glistening while landscape. Franz Josef is a thrill-seekers paradise, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be fast and furious. With two young children in tow we joined a kayak group and paddled the black glacial waters in search of white herons. On one day the lake can reflect the mountains like a perfect mirror. On others it’s black, blustery and threatening. The changing scenery and weather is as much a part of New Zealand travel as the adventure sports. Things to do: · Helicopter Glacier Tours: Alpine Adventures, www.scenic-flights.co.nz · Kayaking: we joined Glacier Country Kayaks www.glacierkayaks.com · Glacier hot pools: www.glacierhotpools.co.nz · Wild life: o West Coast Wildlife Centre: see kiwis at this indoor centre. www.wildkiwi.co.nz o White Heron Sanctuary Tours: ﻿www.whiteherontours.co.nz﻿ · Culture: Maori Cultural Experience by Puawai: a new live performance of traditional songs and dance. Be prepared for some participation and fun. www.maoriculturalcentre.co.nz Where to stay: · In the countryside: Glenfern villas are just 6km from Franz Josef but offers a peaceful retreat with beautiful views and alpacas to feed. www.glenfern.co.nz · In town: 58 on Cron motel is within walking distance of Franz Josef’s restaurants and bars. www.58oncron.co.nz

When you arrive in an unknown land you process what you see based on what you know; past experiences, sights and sounds. I tried to have no preconceived ideas of New Zealand other than I knew it was the home of hobbits, dwarves and elves. But having travelled half way round the world I was surprised by my initial impressions. I wasn’t even out of the airport before I involuntarily started to draw comparisons; I felt like I’d come home – to Wales. The two countries reminded me of twins separated at birth. They both have heart-breakingly beautiful, lush, verdant countryside. They both have a lot of sheep. They both have a lot of rain. New Zealand was even part of the colony of New South Wales, until 1841. (New South Wales was named by Captain James Cook, who thought it looked like South Wales in Britain.) Ok, Wales has fewer vineyards, and fewer volcanoes for that matter, but you don’t have to scratch the surface very far to draw other parallels. I was born in Wales and it’s therefore very close to my heart. I recognised the hedgerows, the rolling hills, the fecund fields. Even the crash barriers are the same. Ok, some of the plants are a little more tropical than the land of my fathers, and the road signs are different, but reading the signs I faced a similar panic to many an Englishman crossing the Severn estuary heading to Wales – I couldn’t. I found it almost impossible to pick out the syllables that would allow me to start sounding out place names. I wracked my brain for my six-year-old daughter’s reading lessons, but still floundered. And that leads to the biggest similarity of all. Both New Zealand and Wales are countries dominated by non-natives. The indigenous populations live in harmony or become absorbed. New Zealand is very proud of its Maori heritage. Wales’s original lineage, now dominated by the English, is hidden under so many layers of history, even most Welshmen have forgotten their roots; for this little corner of Britain is not Germanic by descent but Iberian.Keep digging I’m sure if I kept digging I would be able to find more similarities between these nations. In fact, quite literally, I bet that if you dug a hole, starting in New Zealand, you would be able to follow the umbilical cord of attachment, through Middle Earth and into Wales. It’s a kind of portal from one place to another. Before you go rushing to your globe to see if this is actually true, I am stretching the truth, although it’s close; if you started digging on the beach on the southern most tip of New Zealand you would end up in the North Atlantic, a little wet, but not too far off the UK coast. Who lets a couple of kilometres get in the way of an interesting theory?!A photo memory Either location lends itself to the wink of the camera’s eye, but New Zealand’s sky appears bigger, its waves rougher, its mountains higher. Just add driftwood and stormy purple skies with bubbling clouds to a walk along the beach at Hokikita, and that’s a memory I will cherish through photos. Sometimes the perfect photo is about turning left instead of right. At Rotorua, I heard fireworks and stepped outside to investigate. I couldn’t see any glittering starbursts, but the sky reflected in the lake was a soft pink that glowed through the clouds. Idly wondering why it was such a brilliant sunset in the east, I turned round to face west to be met with the true meaning of the word brilliant. The east “sunset” was just a reflection of this fiery sky. Within five minutes all evidence had disappeared. And then there are the picturesque lakeside views that look perfect until the seamless white sky breaks in half, harpooned by snow-capped mountains. Sometimes the best photographs are hidden from view, a secret known only to a few, and revealed only for the shortest of time. I’d love to say my photos of Wales are just as stunning, but these twins have very different personalities.

We’ve started heading north again now, back through Queenstown, stopping for lunch and to enjoy the stunning lakeside, and on to Wanaka. Wanaka may be a small place but it has everything you need to make it home while you explore. It’s not got the buzz of Queenstown, but that is probably why you stop here. It’s laid back, has some great bars, and the setting couldn’t be more picturesque, with snow-capped mountains sliding into greeny-blue waters. Get on a bike, take a hike, or fly with a parachute – there are many ways to see the sights. We started our day in the saddle, pedaling around the lake. When the children were very small it was quite easy. My husband and I both had a child’s seat on the back of our bikes and away we would go. The children would, more often than not, fall asleep and we could spend the day eating up the miles. But children have a habit of growing. When they got too big for the back of the bike, we switched to trailers. Now with a six and four year old we had to work out the next stage. We settled on hiring a little bike for our elder daughter, and a tag along one-wheeled addition, fixed to the back my of husband’s bike, for our younger daughter. We have now relinquished some of the cycling control we once had and that means we can only go as far, and fast, as our daughter is able to pedal. So a tame, but fun, morning was spent pootling on the lake shore. We must have been going slowly because even our younger daughter had the chance to remark how beautiful it was. After a spot of lunch back in town, we switched tyres for our own treads, and took off for a little hike to the top of Mount Iron. It’s a short 90 minute circular route, which despite the whinging and whining of our two mountain goats, we are pleased we undertook. The view from the top is far-reaching, and is a full 360 degree panoramic picture. The reward for the children came at the end. I told our youngest that the treat was a banana (she really loves bananas) but they were even happier to get their minds exercised at Puzzling World. I wouldn’t usually visit a tourist attraction that had no connection with the local area. When I’m travelling I like learn about my surroundings. But Puzzling World had piqued my curiosity, and it is such a strange place, and a famous Wanaka attraction, that I had all the reason I needed to pay a visit. The brainchild of Stuart Landsborough, and today run by his daughter and son-in-law, Puzzling World offers a Great Maze (now celebrating it’s 40th anniversary) alongside illusion rooms, holograms, mind-teasing sculptures and, bizarrely, some Roman toilets. It’s not a huge museum, and if you spend too long trying to work out each puzzle or brainteaser your head might explode, but it’s a great way to spend a couple of hours. Wanaka is a town I could return to.

Oamura was our next stop along the eastern coast. It's a long drive, but you get an insight into how big this small country really is. Tired of eating tarmac, despite the changing scenery, we might sometimes grumble that we would prefer to stay in one place, especially with young children in tow, but there is still so much to discover. Three weeks is not enough, but a whirlwind trip such as this helps to give you perspective. I have a hunger to try to understand why we live where we do and why we return to certain places. I always like to start a country trip with a broad-brush approach. One of the regrets I have about this section of our trip is that, short of time, we decided to miss out the Moariki boulders. It is one of the reasons I wanted to travel so far south on the east coast. These perfectly round rocks on the beach, surrounded by mystery, resemble dinosaur eggs. Something to return to, I guess. It was time to head across country to Te Anau, following the mountains all the way, rounding corners to discover blankets of purple and pink wild lupins, and hillsides covered in bright yellow broom. We had been used to thick cloud cover by now, but if I say that the average annual rainfall in the Te Anau area is six metres, that probably gives you a few clues of what it was like. Wet is one, insufficient word for it. Te Anau is a popular launching of point for day trips to the serene Milford Sound inlets and fiords, accessible by one dead-end road. Milford Sound is one of the pinnacle sights that draws tourists to the Fiordlands, and is one of the country’s biggest tourist attractions. Ironically, it’s not even a sound, given that it was a created by glaciers, but it follows the suit of other “sounds” in the Fiordland coast, lapping on to the Tasman Sea. Tour guides practically clapped us on the back, congratulating us for choosing one of the best days to see it. I’m sure this was said through gritted smiles – not many people like standing in the rain. But in one way they were right. The rainfall meant than the black mass of mountains surrounding the Sound had sprung several leaks; waterfalls that are only turned on during rainy weather. So we were able to see a pretty spectacular show. However, it was raining, and as rain and cameras don’t mix too well, I have little evidence to prove this. You'll just have to hope that it is raining when you go. A coach took us from Te Anau to Milford Sound, which gave us the opportunity to relax and look out of the window, and a boat gracefully glided us around, before we boarded the bus once more. Even in the wet weather we were a welcome meal for the sandflies, so if you adhere to one piece of advice, take plenty of repellant. Our home for the night was a cosy log cabin, complete with log fire and home baking from our hosts. Keplar Oaks isn’t an ordinary B&B. It’s a unique homestay with a difference, within the Fiordland National Park Scenic Reserve, just five minutes from Te Anau. With a friendly bouncy dog bolting around, rabbits and lambs to feed, and ponies to ride, my two little girls were in animal heaven.

Heading south: from adrenaline to fresh airThe ferry across the Cook Strait, from Wellington to Picton, is a slow and laid-back affair, but it fits in with the attitude and reflective pace of life in New Zealand. It’s also a journey not a rush, given the stunning secluded bays of the Marlborough Sound. We headed straight to Blenheim, centre of the Marlborough wine region, to a little B&B, the Dry Olive, nestled among beautifully manicured vineyards and olive groves. Whether you want to hire bikes, hike, or nominate a driver, the vineyards are conveniently located quite close together. They do tend to close quite early though, around 4pm, to put off drunken pelotons of cyclists. Our next stop, a little further down the coast, was Kaikoura, famous for its whales. We’d booked an afternoon trip, which was extremely well organised. I must admit to be a landlubber, and the waves were a little too choppy for me, but that said, it doesn’t take away from the experiences of spotting these majestic creatures up close. We had two sperm whale sightings, which is fairly lucky seeing as they can dive for up to two hours. Trying to comprehend their sheer mass is something I’ll never get my head around. We watched them blow water and catch their breath, and then submerge like a gracefully submarine, flicking their tail behind them. Apparently there are beautiful snow covered mountains that descend directly into the sea. I saw “apparently” because the weather was too poor for us to see any mountains. In fact, it was only because our landlady mentioned them that we were any the wiser. And then at breakfast we had the briefest of “ah-ha” moments. The clouds parted just enough to offer a glimpse of hidden peaks, which harpooned the clouds, before zipping itself backup again, almost embarrassed to be caught with its trousers down. The cloud cover was so thick and even it was impossible to know anything was hidden behind the fleecy coat.

Most towns evolve slowly over time, but after the devastating impact of the 1931 earthquake, Napier was virtually wiped clean. Even the shape, level and site of the beach front was changed in the disaster, when 40sq km of land were raised from the seabed. A few of the wooden weatherboarded buildings survived, but redevelopment in the 1930s meant that the town architecturally took on an Art Deco vibe. The town, which is said to rival Miami as the Art Deco capital of the world, still likes to don its feather boa and cloche hat, and the Art Deco Trust ensures the buildings are preserved. The vineyards are another draw to the Hawkes Bay area, and coincidentally it is the birthplace of New Zealand wine after French missionaries settled here in 1851, now the Mission Estate. Set in-between beautiful, steep, green rolling hills the connoisseur and the novice will not be disappointed. Many vineyards have cafes, with visas to soften the heart. Travelling with small children we have seen people raise their eyebrows when we mention our love of the vine and wine tasting, but having children doesn’t mean you have to stop your favourite activities. Of course, we haven’t been able to take any long, languishing, inebriated lunches, but a quick stop for some tastings can be educational, and good fun. We stopped at Clearview Estate at Te Awanga, near Hastings, a particularly children-friendly vineyard with chicken scratching around and a playground. One final stop worth making is at the top of the Te Mata Peak, about 16km from Havelock North. You could just go for the spectacular view the summit commands over Hawkes Bay, or spend some time hiking the various paths that criss-cross over this rugged cliff. Where to stay: The owners of the Mission B&B are very welcoming, and they know their wines.

It’s a long drive to the Waitomo Caves, but hearing that it was such a spectacular site, and with Middle Earth countryside to keep our imagination satisfied, we decided it was worth the effort. Although known to the Maoris, it was only discovered by Westerns in 1887 when English surveyor Fred Mace was introduced to it by local tribesmen. The commercial viability of the site was soon realised and it became a tourist spot overnight. The caves have the usual beautiful stalactites and stalagmites, lit in interesting ways to resemble elephants, Bob Marley’s hair or the pointing finger of ET, but its real draw are the glow worms: thousands of tiny blue lights that cling to the ceiling and are only revealed in the pitch dark. A boat ride, where the participants remain respectfully silent, makes this a haunting trip. It’s a clique to refer to the ceiling as the night sky, but there is simply no other comparison. Our Maori guide, a descendant from Tane Tinorau, the chief who introduced Mace to the caves, was able to show us the ethereal beauty of the darkness, and then the amazing transformation of the scene when the lights were switched on, which was met by audible awe from the tour group. The glow worm lights disappeared and the first thing you noticed were hundreds of sticky threads dangling from the cave roof, often up to 40cm long, waiting to trap unsuspecting insects attracted to the light. Sometimes the strangest sights are offered by nature. Rotorua is a well-known tourist magnet, and although commercialised it still retains its charm and is a pretty chilled-out place. That said, if you’re looking for adventure you won’t have to go looking for it. It will more or less hit you in the face. And while you’re looking for excuses not to go zorbing, or rafting, or dangling in the air at the end of a piece of string, there is plenty to keep you occupied. Rotorua is a place you can smell before you arrive, and you just have to walk through Kuirau Park in the centre of town to discover the source of the sulphur. Boiling water and mud literally bubbles out of the ground, in swamps, lakes, and sometimes car parks. If you worry about your child falling into the local duck pond, you might want to keep them closer to heel. First-degree burns from a fall in these ponds are likely. It is a mesmerising sight however. At every turn steam rises from the ground. We headed 30km south to Wai-o-Tapo geothermal park, where we were able to walk around glugging mud, shooting geysers and rainbow-colored lakes. The eggy pong can be nauseating after a while, but regardless this is an amazing moonscape to visit. The pictures just say it all. Often travel is punctuated by photo moments; they help to keep my memories fresh. One such moment was created this evening. We’re staying at a lakeside motel and writing these notes I have a breathtaking visa across Lake Rotorua. There’s a jetty, with seagulls enjoying the rose sunset, so I decided to stroll across to see the lake at this peaceful time of day. The clouds glowed pink, reflected by the lake and, in between, the silhouetted hills just enhanced this framed moment in time. After I’d take the photo I turned 180 degrees to be greeted by one of the most spectacular sunsets I have ever seen. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

New Zealand is famous as a place of adventure, so can a young family really enjoy the fruits of this land has to offer? Like other countries populated by Westerners, it has a limited documented heritage only spanning a couple of centuries, but that does not make it devoid of history. It’s a mistake think this country is less than two hundred years old. It became a British colony in 1840, but it is as old as the rest of the world. The Maori history has relied on stories passed through generation, rather than the written word, however, and coupled with a relatively young European history, New Zealand has taken ownership of how it is perceived in another way – it has turned to outdoor pursuits as not only a tourist attraction, but a way of life. We visited the islands in November, during spring. The days are getting warming, but I have a strong suspicion that “outdoor pursuits” might be code for “keeping active to keep out the cold”. I love sports, but there is no way I am getting in that sea until things properly heat up. We started our journey in Auckland, which for a city is laidback and calm. That doesn’t mean you have to stand still however. If you want to take part in activities on dry land or on open water there is something for everyone. Given we were travelling with a six year old and a four year old, we opted for a ferry trip over to the sleepy town of Devonport. We wandered the streets and then climbed Mt Victoria, an extinct volcano that offers spectacular 360-degree views over Auckland. The fashionable suburbs of Newmarket, Parnell and Ponsonby are all great if you fancy watching the world go by. Our girls were particularly taken by the Fairy Shop in Ponsonby, where they could dress up like princesses and drink “fluffies” - foamy milk with sprinkles. Although a pleasant town, Auckland isn’t a great bustling city, and it’s not the main reason to visit New Zealand, so we headed to Coromandel for an introduction to the countryside. The views are tremendous. From clear, blue waters to rocky islands, cliff archways and rich pastures, the coastline is stunning. We spent a fun hours digging around on Hot Water Beach, where natural hot springs surface on the beach – take a spade and you can create your own spa. The water is really hot enough to boil an egg in places so keep an eye on little ones. A little further up the coast at Huhei is the Cathedral Cove, which is a lovely, easy walk (40 mins each way) through woodland and along the cliff top to a wonderful little beach, complete with natural cliff arch, waterfall and rocky outcrops. You could spend a good week discovering the peninsula.